


Dancing in the Tall Grass

by misura



Category: Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997)
Genre: Getting Together, Multi, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 08:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12701235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "Hello again, ex-ex-Mrs. Ian Malcolm.""Hi there, future boyfriend number one."





	Dancing in the Tall Grass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blurhawaii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurhawaii/gifts).



"Nick? Nick van Owen?" someone said from behind him, and Nick turned, smiling. _Gotcha._

"See, you're laughing at me now, but as a matter of fact, there's at least three other Nicks here, and I happen to know that two of them are single, so specifying which Nick you thought I was is actually very important and relevant," he said. "Hi. Great party."

"It's a fundraiser," replied Sarah Harding.

"Any fundraiser can become a party if you spend the evening hanging out with the right people," Nick said. "Trust me on this. I mean, it's my first time and everything, but I'm positive that's the way it works."

"You're either an incorrigible optimist or very, very drunk."

"It's barely even ten," Nick said. "Give me some credit, will you? Of course, now that I've run into you, it's going to take a whole lot to ruin my night. You seen Ian around?"

"Did you hear the part where I mentioned this is a fundraiser?"

Nick downed his drink. Okay-ish stuff, if you didn't care about taste. "Did you hear the part where I'm his plus one? I guess you didn't, because I didn't mention it out loud until right now, but, you know. Chances are, he's going to pop up. Fair warning."

"Chances are, he's going to pop out the minute someone spots him and tries to get him to talk about almost getting eaten by dinosaurs," Sarah said. "Fair warning right back at you."

"Well, how likely is _that_ to happen? These all seem like nice, decent people."

 

Ian was, in fact, hiding out by the buffet. Nick discovered him there by the childishly simple means of being an absolute nobody no one wanted to talk to in order to solicit his funds and/or opinion, combined with a healthy dose of determination.

There was a pleasant lack of dinosaur-story enthusiasts surrounding him, possibly due to the fact that Ian was talking to someone on the phone.

"Look, Karen, I - " Ian glanced at Nick.

Nick tries to look non-threatening, non-confrontational and non-professionally interested. Like a nice guy, just happening to be around, hearing things.

"I gotta go. Work it out, will you?" Ian said. He looked at Nick. "Sorry about that."

Nick shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Trouble with the goddess, or just trouble with the missus?"

"Ex-missus. Both," Ian said. "Neither. Who knows? Drinks any good?"

"Well, they've got alcohol in them, if that's what you're asking," said Nick. "But seriously man, you drag me to one of these things, and then you're not even going to show me off as arm-candy? I think my feelings are hurt."

"Wingman," Ian said. "You're my wingman. And I'm yours, I suppose, although I wouldn't recommend any of the ladies here for anything more than some light flirting. Still, it's your funeral."

"Not if I can help it." Nick grabbed two glasses from a passing tray. "Wingman, huh?"

"Did I say 'wingman'? My mistake," Ian said. "I meant 'friend'."

"Is this the part where we have the 'it's not you, it's me' conversation?" Nick asked. "Seriously, that hurts. I mean, at least check out the merchandise before you decide not to buy it, know what I'm saying?"

Ian choked on his drink.

Nick patted him on the back as he felt a friend should. "Why don't you think about it for a bit, hm? Have some peanuts. They're okay. Not a lot you can do to screw up peanuts, I guess."

 

"I think some guy just hit on me," Ian said.

"Well, some guys like other guys," said Sarah. "And some guys have very poor taste. It's not inconceivable the two groups would overlap."

Ian gave her a look. "You hit on me, once upon a time."

"Everybody's entitled to make a few mistakes in their lives," Sarah said. "Besides, you're not all bad. So what's freaking you out worse: getting hit on, or getting hit on by a guy?"

"Since you asked, it was Nick."

"Lucky you," Sarah said.

"Woman, don't toy with me. I'm really not in the mood. Did you put him up to it? A little revenge for oh, I don't know, that half dozen times I didn't bother showing up for one of these things?"

"Or the dinner with your parents. Or the one with _my_ parents. Now, really, Ian, would I do that? Do I strike you as the sort of woman who would do such a thing?"

"Straight-up crazy and loving it? Absolutely," said Ian. "It's what attracted me in the first place."

"Well, there you go, then."

 

"Hello again, ex-ex-Mrs. Ian Malcolm."

"Hi there, future boyfriend number one."

Nick grinned. He was nowhere near drunk yet - not even a little tipsy, but he was definitely having fun.

His therapist had suggested that perhaps he used exaggerated happiness as a shield against the memories of his recent traumatic experiences. He'd replied that this sounded like an excellent possibility, as well as something he'd hardly call a 'problem'.

So he wanted to snuggle up with the two people who'd been there, seen that and pulled through all right, so what? There were less healthy ways to cope. God knew he'd caught some of them on camera.

"Who's Karen?"

Sarah grimaced. "Another member of the club of the exes. Nice woman, really. Good with kids. A little strict, but hey. We can't all be the Cool Mom-type."

"Ah." Nick nodded wisely, as if he knew all about it. "So I think I'm about ready to try again. Any advice?"

Sarah smiled. She had a nice smile. "You could always practice your moves a little first."

"Good advice from a beautiful woman," Nick said. "However can I express my undying gratitude?"

"How would you feel about a 'no cure, no pay' arrangement?" Sarah suggested.

"Beauty _and_ brains. And brawn - I guess you've got that covered, too, right? That's one deadly combination. And you're telling me some guy actually made the mistake of breaking up with you. What a chump."

"That's the spirit. Go get him. For me, Nick."

Nick sketched a bow. "As my lady commands."

 

Ian was either still or again hanging around the buffet. If he was hoping for more edible food to appear, Nick saluted his optimism, while sighing at his naivety.

... All right, so Ian probably wasn't waiting for food. Naive, the man was not. Commitment-shy and deliberately playing hard to get, maybe, but not naive.

"Look," Nick said. "I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot just now."

"Well, that's a little disappointing," said Ian. "You're saying you _don't_ want to sleep with me? Next time, just turn down the invitation, will you? These mixed signals don't do either of us any favors."

Nick frowned. _Talking about mixed signals._ "I wouldn't put it quite so crudely, but by all means, let's call a cab a cab. Yes, I think you're an attractive guy. And yes, I think your girlfriend's an attractive woman. What can I say? I'm easily attracted to people who've saved my life."

"Don't sell yourself short," Ian said. "There was a lot of saving going on. Not to mention a shit ton of pure luck. Traumatic experiences. Screaming and dying and the rending of garments. The lot."

"Second time for you, wasn't it?" Nick said. He wondered if Ian and that other guy - what was his name again? Grant or something? had ever had this sort of conversation. "Don't imagine it gets any easier, although hey, this time, at least you went in knowing what to expect."

Nick didn't think there was any amount of money in the world that'd make him go back. No way, no how. Any T-rex came over here, he'd be happy to do his bit to help, but deliberately set foot again on an island full of monsters? There were easier ways to get yourself killed.

"This once, I might not have minded being wrong," said Ian. "Alas. I'm usually right. Consider it my personal curse."

Nick chuckled. "Some curse."

"I'm pretty sure my girlfriend likes you back, by the way," Ian said. "So that just leaves you and me."

"I'm pretty sure your girlfriend likes me back, too," Nick said. She'd been his 'plus one' on a night that had been much more fun than this one, even if it had lacked somewhat in the Ian Malcolm department. Still, it had been a good way to break the ice, to make sure they really did get along perfectly well even when their lives weren't in constant danger.

He'd told her about all these new projects his producer had lined up for him, and she'd told him about this decennia-old theory she might seek to debunk next. Good times.

Ian sighed. "Sounds like you've got it all worked out. Does the term 'third wheel' mean anything to you?"

"Depends. Does the term 'bullshit' mean anything to you?" Nick replied. "Because hey, if you're not interested in getting yourself some of this, that's your loss. No hard feelings. But if you're just going to tell me 'no' because you're chicken or think you can't handle the heat, well, then I'm calling it like I see it. So what's it going to be?"

"Journalists." Ian shook his head. "Always asking the dumb questions."

 

_epilogue_

"Well, that was fun. We should do this again some day. Say, next week?"

Sarah was shaking her head.

"Book tour," said Ian, presumably speaking for himself. "But hey, I'll call you? Both of you."

"That's what he always says," Sarah said. "Don't hold your breath. Ian's idea of a perfect relationship consists of only actually seeing each other once a month or so. At most."

"Right," Nick said. Well, he'd never imagined it was going to be all smooth sailing from here on out, anyway. Fun and helpful at keeping the monsters at bay, yes, but not easy. "Okay. So we'll just see how things work out, then."


End file.
